Chopin: Nocturnes (CD review)

Fazil Say, piano. Warner Classics 0190295821814.

According to the Harvard Concise Dictionary of Music, a nocturne is "most often, a romantic character piece for piano with an expressive melody over a broken-chord movement accompaniment." And, of course, the nocturne is usually suggestive of the night. No, the Polish composer and pianist Frederic Chopin (1810-1849) did not invent the form (that honor is commonly accorded to the Irishman John Field, 1782-1837), but Chopin probably did more than anyone else to popularize the form, writing twenty-one nocturnes during his lifetime, three of them published posthumously.

On the present album, the Turkish pianist and composer Fazil Say (b. 1970) gives us fifteen of Chopin's twenty-one nocturnes, including all three of the posthumous ones. (For those keeping score, the six he leaves out are No. 1, Op. 27; No. 2, Op. 32; No. 2, Op. 37; No. 2, Op. 55; and both pieces in Op. 52.)

In the liner notes, Say tells us that "For the first time I'm recording a Chopin album, because I had a particular idea about playing Chopin. Chopin revolutionised piano music, introducing so many new sounds that are very poetic. His music is poetry. We're facing very difficult times in the world, but if you play this music, you forget everything."

And that's the way he plays the nocturnes--poetically--with all that the word implies, including the qualities of imagination, feeling, and lyricism. It also means, however, that he takes a few more liberties with the music than many other Chopin interpreters do. The other complete sets I had on hand for comparison were from Claudio Arrau (Philips), Maurizio Pollini (DG), and Arthur Rubinstein (RCA), all of whom play the music at a steadier pace: Arrau more gently, Pollini more tersely, and Rubinstein more eloquently.

Fazil Say
Mr. Say is looser with his rubato, his tempos and dynamic contrasts more pronounced compared to Arrau, Pollini, or Rubinstein. Not that there is anything wrong with this approach since a certain degree of idiosyncrasy is always welcome in a performance if it is not exaggerated to the point of distraction. With Say his singular renditions do not draw one's attention away from the music, unless, that is, you are a Chopin devotee who will allow for no such meddling in the composer's work. Then, you may want to stick with old favorites.

Anyhow, as I mentioned, Say's interpretations are on the creative side, following a poetic pattern that emphasizes slightly speedier sections than we may be accustomed to, followed by calmer, more leisurely ones, with strong accents throughout. While Say's playing is virtuosic, as goes without saying, he uses that virtuosity to the advantage of the music, not merely to show off. Chopin's nocturnes are exquisite little gems, and Say does his utmost to underline, accent, and shed new light on them. The posthumous nocturnes are especially welcome as one so seldom hears them.

If the light Say sheds is a bit more specific to his particular style of piano playing than others may display, it never takes away from the beauty of Chopin's work. In all, I wouldn't say these are performances that listeners might want as an only set, but they are recordings many listeners might easily want to fit in with older, more-cherished ones. For me, the older, more-cherished set is from Arthur Rubinstein, who seems to do every piece to perfection. Nevertheless, I doubt even Say would claim his set of nocturnes should supplant everything that went before. His set is like a supplement, a new look, and as such it works fine.

Producer and engineer Jean-Martial Golaz recorded the music at the Great Hall, Mozarteum Salzburg in March 2016. The miking leaves a lot of room for hall ambience, which gives the music an extra measure of nocturnal mystery without being so reverberant that it wholly clouds the notes. In addition, the detail, definition, and dynamics are a tad on the soft side, which is also OK given the type of material involved and the naturally warm flavor of piano music in general. This is a lush, warm, full recording that complements the music making.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:


Albinoni: 12 Concertos, Op. 9 (CD review)

Andrew Manze, violin; Frank de Bruine and Alfredo Bernardini, oboes; Christopher Hogwood, The Academy of Ancient Music. Decca 289 458 129-2 (2-disc set).

At last count the number of classical works I had never heard before stood at approximately 932, 876,562.3. After listening to this two-disc set of Albinoni concertos from Christopher Hogwood and the Academy of Ancient Music, that number is effectively reduced by twelve. I can sleep easier.

For those of you who, like me, recognize Albinoni's name largely from the Adagio in G-minor for organ and strings, famously reconstructed by Remo Giazotto but bearing little relationship to Albinoni's actual hand, these concertos from Hogwood may come as a surprise. Albinoni was a contemporary of Vivaldi, but while the latter is a household name, people play and recognize rather little of Albinoni's output nowadays. More's the pity; Albinoni's work shows sparkle and invention.

Christopher Hogwood
Hearing these concertos for the first time, I cannot pretend to be able to identify them in the future. As a whole, though, they would seem to epitomize the "Age of Reason," the first half of the eighteenth century in which Albinoni wrote them. There is an order and precision about them that is at once calculated and scintillating.

Even more so than Vivaldi, who was much more the showman, Albinoni's concertos appear more subdued, more distanced, yet still glistening with vitality. At least that's how Christopher Hogwood, his soloists, and the Academy players present them on period instruments and using historically informed performance practices. Most important, Hogwood takes them at relatively lively but modest tempos, never hurrying the music as so many period groups do. I was most taken by Nos. 2, 7, and 12 for their vivacious spirit, and Nos. 2 and 7 in particular for their lovely slow movements.

Decca's sound has its merits, as well. The engineers recorded it at a reasonably moderate distance for a realistic home-listening experience, offering an image that is set back from the speakers and not spread too far across them. Nevertheless, the timbre seems slightly bright and hard to me and somewhat lacking at the bottom end. I would have preferred to hear a more resonant mid bass to justify the ensemble's perceived location in my living room. Still, the performances and sound are of good quality, and for anyone even remotely curious about Baroque music the set makes an intelligent purchase decision.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:


Beethoven: Piano Concertos Nos. 3 & 5 (CD review)

Norman Krieger, piano; Joann Falletta, Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra. Decca DD41154/481 5583.

The composer is Beethoven and the music is his Piano Concertos Nos. 3 and 5. No questions there; pretty well-known pieces from one of the most well-known musicians the world has ever known. The conductor is Joann Falletta and the ensemble is the Buffalo Philharmonic. No questions there, either. Ms. Falletta and her orchestra have a boatload of recordings to their credit and a ton of fans. The soloist is pianist Norman Krieger, and there you may have some questions. He's been around for a while and has several albums to his name, but he probably isn't yet a household name.

According to Wikipedia, Mr. Krieger is "an American pianist and a professor at the Jacobs School of Music at Indiana University. He is a recipient of numerous prizes, including one from the Paderewski Foundation. He studied under the guidance of Esther Lipton in Los Angeles. By the age of 15, he obtained a scholarship from the Juilliard School, where he was educated by Adele Marcus. He was Alfred Brendel's and Maria Curcio's student in London, and he obtained an artist's diploma from the New England Conservatory. By 2011 he became a professor of music at the USC Thornton. He has collaborated with such musicians as Sheri Greenawald, Livia Sohn, and Jian Wang as well as both Tokyo and Manhattan String Quartets. He also was invited to the Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts and was a frequent participant at the Mostly Mozart Festival. He has recorded two Johannes Brahms concertos, which he has also performed with the Arkansas Symphony Orchestra."

So, fair enough. He's a fine pianist, and the music, though overly familiar and thoroughly represented in the catalogue, can always welcome a new interpreter.

First up on the program is Beethoven's Piano Concerto No. 3, Op. 37, which he wrote in 1800 and premiered in 1803 with the composer himself as soloist. (Interestingly, when Beethoven first performed it, he had not yet had time to write down the complete score, and most of it he performed from memory.) Anyway, Krieger has the benefit of over two hundred years of tradition behind him, and his performance is in the mainstream of those performing practices.

The concerto begins with a lengthy introduction, which Ms. Falletta and the Buffalo Philharmonic play with an easy, breezy charm, turning up the energy just before Mr. Krieger's entrance. That entry has plenty of punch, so you know Krieger is showing his authority and dominance from there on out. In the Largo that follows, Krieger takes things at a comfortable pace and communicates a welcome sense of peace and calm. It is only in the final Allegro that Krieger seems to miss a bit of edge and energy, and the movement loses a little something of its spirited fun.

Norman Krieger
Then we get the Piano Concerto No. 5, the "Emperor" Concerto, which Beethoven dedicated to Archduke Rudolf. No one is quite sure why the concerto's publisher in England, J. B. Cramer, gave it the nickname "Emperor" except as a marketing tool. Maybe to go with the composer's "Eroica" Symphony, or maybe because Napoleon had invaded Beethoven's Vienna during its composition. Who knows? Whatever, Mr. Krieger's interpretation is again in the mainstream of modern performance practice.

The opening is big and dramatic, as it should be, helped, no doubt, by Decca's live, close up sound, and the Buffalo Orchestra's glowing support. The first movement loses very little tension along its way, although Krieger takes it at a slightly slower tempo than some other pianists. Then Krieger gives us a lovely Adagio, followed by an appropriately bouncy finale.

Throughout the performance of the Fifth Concerto Krieger's playing sounds graceful and flowing, and Ms. Falletta's direction is equally refined, the Buffalo ensemble sounding as good as any in the country. That said, the recording may appeal more to Beethoven collectors than to the general public, who have an enormous catalogue of choices before them. For instance, for a big, traditional production, I still enjoy Ashkenazy and Solti on Decca; for a more intimate, heartfelt rendition, I like Kempf and Leitner on DG; for near-audiophile sound I would choose Serkin and Ozawa on Telarc or FIM; and for probably the best all-around recommendation, Kovocevich and Davis on Philips.

Producer and engineer Bernd Gottinger recorded the concertos live at Kleinhans Music Hall, Buffalo, New York in October 2004 and March 2015. Studio recordings of symphony orchestras used to be the norm for all the big record companies until cost factors got in the way, and now the companies all seem to favor live recordings, leaving only the smaller labels to do studio jobs. Oh, well. Decca also retain the applause after each work. I suppose they think the clapping increases the listener's appreciation for the live event. I don't share their enthusiasm.

Fortunately, Decca didn't record the orchestra for the Third Concerto too very closely, so there is still a measure of room ambience present, as well as a natural warmth and roundness to the music. The piano, though, sounds very close relative to the orchestra. Still, it sounds OK. With the Fifth Concerto eleven years later, however, the sound of both the orchestra and the piano appears closer, with less room resonance in play. Nevertheless, there is good detail and definition to the proceedings, and I'm sure most listeners will enjoy the clarity and impact of the sound.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:


Beethoven: Panorama (CD review)

Leonore Overture; Piano Concerto No. 4; Symphony No. 5; Piano Sonatas 17 & 21; String Quartet "Razumovsky." Carlos Kleiber, Claudio Abbado, Karl Bohm, Maurizio Pollini. DG Panorama 289 469 112-2 (2-disc set).

This two-disc set began DG's second series of "Panorama" double albums, featuring some of the company's best older recordings of Beethoven. Like many others in the series, these discs offer some magical and highly persuasive moments at a relatively low price. It remains a bargain and a must-have if you don't already have these performances in your library.

The program begins with the Leonore Overture, performed by Claudio Abbado and the Vienna Philharmonic, recorded in 1991. The performance displays commendable energy and drive, but finds flaw in its mediocre, curiously lifeless sound.

Following the overture on disc one is the Fourth Piano Concerto with pianist Maurizio Pollini and conductor Karl Bohm with the Vienna Philharmonic. Pollini's playing appears a bit distant but as always his craftsmanship and precision are without peer. The recording, made in 1976, is fuller, warmer, and more ambient than the later Abbado productions and provides a more comfortable listening experience.

Carlos Kleiber
Disc one concludes with what is perhaps the most famous and most critically acclaimed recording of the last forty or fifty years, Carlos Kleiber's 1975 rendition of the Fifth Symphony, also with the Vienna Philharmonic. The set would be worth its price for this electrifying and emotionally charged performance alone. On a side note, DG also offer this Fifth Symphony in their "Originals" series of single discs, coupled with Kleiber's excellent interpretation of the Seventh Symphony.

Disc two begins with a pair of piano sonatas, No. 21 "Waldstein," and No. 17 "The Tempest." Both find pianistic perfection in a 1989 recording by Maurizio Pollini. The lineup concludes with the String Quartet in C major, Op. 59, No. 3 "Razumovsky." Recorded in 1997 by the Emerson String Quartet, it is immediate in sound and evocative in spirit.

Given that so many record companies are repackaging older material these days, it's good to see DG doing so with such good taste, creativity, and generosity. What's more, given that DG first issued this set some years ago, one can find it at a ridiculously low price new or almost nothing used. You won't find better value anywhere in the world of recorded music.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:


McEncroe: Symphonic Suites 1 & 2: A Medieval Saga (CD review)

Mark J. Saliba, orchestration; Anthony Armore, Janácek Philharmonic Orchestra. Navona Records NV6116 (2-disc set).

Australian composer and pianist Mark John McEncroe (b. 1947) began his career in music working in his early twenties and thirties as a label manager for EMI Records in Australia and Sweden. It was during this time that he also took up piano, trumpet, flute, and clarinet, mainly as a hobby but later in depth. It wasn't until 2003 that he began studying music theory and composition, and since that time he has composed a number of works and recorded an equal number of albums. While his usual approach (including the current album) has been to write the scores for piano and then collaborate with Mark J. Saliba, who would orchestrate the pieces, he is currently studying orchestration, perhaps to do more of the work himself.

McEncroe began writing the Symphonic Suites 1 & 2: A Medieval Saga in 2007, originally entitling them "A Modern Medieval Tale" (now "Just Another Medieval Tale") and the second "And The Medieval Tale Continues," perhaps hinting that there are more "medieval tales" to come. Even though McEncroe regards the two works as "symphonies with a story to tell," he was probably right in labeling them suites because that's pretty much what they are: two series of program music describing life in medieval times. In this regard they reminded me of Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet (if you substitute Renaissance for medieval), and, indeed, the composer is currently developing his suites into a ballet. Of course, the suites may also remind some listeners of film music (here, for example, Prokofiev's Alexander Nevsky comes to mind), and perhaps even a score for an Arthurian epic. Understand, I only mean this observation as a compliment as the music is quite graphic.

The titles of the various movements may give you a better idea of their content.

Suite No. 1:
1. Entrance of the King
2. Strutting Peacocks - Hangers on at Court
3. Rising Discontent
4. Peasants Uprising
5. An Uneasy Truce
6. A New Way Forward
7. The Quest - A Search for Truth

Suite No. 2:
1. The Gathering of Forces - A Call to Arms
2. The Night Before the Battle
3. The Siege
4. A Call for Peace
5. Hail to the New King
6. A Brave New World

Each suite is a little over forty minutes, so together they are a bit too long to accommodate on a single CD. But not to worry: Navona Records offers the two-disc set for the price of one, so everyone is happy.

Mark John McEncroe
Anyway, the section titles tell it all. The music describes a series of dramatic scenes from medieval life, mainly conflicts and turbulences among the ruling classes. There's a lovely lyricism to the slower segments that one can see would lend themselves nicely to ballet. The battle sequences also work well, developing an appropriate intensity.

And so it goes. The orchestration is often lush and romantic. The Janácek Philharmonic do a splendid job articulating the various degrees of ardour and periodically feverish passion the score requires. And Maestro Anthony Armore manages to keep it all of one piece, as the score does tend to go off in different directions on occasion.

I can't say the music impressed me overmuch with its originality, however, because by the time I finished the first suite, I wasn't quite ready for a sequel. Fortunately, the second suite actually comes across as more innovative, more creative, more tuneful, and more atmospheric than the first. I can't help wondering, then, if it wouldn't have been better for McEncroe to have synthesized a single suite of numbers from the two suites. At about an hour, he might have something important here. In the meantime, we look forward to the upcoming ballet he has planned for the music.

The album's producer and engineer, Jaroslav Zouhar, recorded the two suites at The Hall of Culture, Ostrava, Czech Republic in June 2015 and January 2016. There is sometimes a rather bright, edgy upper midrange response in the first of the suites that tends to dominate the music, but if you can get past that, things are fairly neutral. Clarity is OK if a bit steely, as I say. Good depth of field helps with realism, as do strong dynamics. Hall resonance sometimes appears just right and at other times appears a tad too reverberant and tubby. Mid bass is full and round, providing a comforting warmth to the proceedings. Most of the time the sound is natural and lifelike, especially in the second suite, which I not only liked more for its musical content but sounds better recorded to me.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:


Maria Callas: The Legend (CD review)

EMI CDC 7243 5 57057  2 3 (Warner Classics 2435570575)

The American operatic soprano Maria Callas (1923-1977) may still be the most recognizable female name in opera, almost a quarter century after her death. Although she was quite versatile, singing in French, German, and Italian, she is known today primarily for her French and Italian roles, which are well represented on this collection of her art. She was also known for her volatile disposition and the notoriety of her lifestyle, but that's another story. The questions is, Was she really the greatest female soprano of all time? One can only say, maybe. Personal taste dictates the answer.

Certainly, one could make the case that Callas should come somewhere near the top of any list of great singers. And another thing seems clear: she probably did not possess the most dynamic, lilting, precise, or beautiful voice of all time. Those titles might go to other contenders. What is equally clear, however, is that no other soprano in modern history interpreted a song quite like her. By the time she retired, she had performed over forty separate roles and had recorded something like twenty operas.

Maria Callas
The booklet insert provides a good example of her singing style. When a reporter once asked her after a film appearance, "So you have decided to start out on a career as an actress," she replied that she thought she had always been one. Yes, above all she was an actress, a dramatic singer who could transform herself into the character she was performing and convey the character's emotions through the words. She was not simply singing; she was being.

The seventeen arias on this recital disc, among the best she ever recorded, are good examples of her ability to transcend the mere lyrics of a song and create a genuine persona. Listen to the first item, Bellini's "Casta Diva" from Norma, and you'll see what I mean. There follow songs from Catalani, Rossini, Donizetti, Puccini and Verdi, of course, Saint-Saens and Bizet. Trust me in saying you will recognize all of them; they are standard repertoire fare like "Un bel di vedremo," "Si, Mi chiamano Mimi," "O mio babbino caro," and the like. Each is exquisite; each a gem.

EMI's sound varies from mediocre to above average in these remasters, now available from Warner Classics. Remember, these recordings were taken from the mid Fifties on. Most are in monaural, but like "Vissi d 'arte" from Tosca, it is quite good mono sound. My only complaint is that the EMI engineers occasionally seem to have applied a little too much noise reduction, softening the high end more than necessary. Most of the tracks evidence a degree of hardness or roughness, but it is not extreme, and if you love music you won't even notice. Strongly recommended.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:


Beethoven: Symphony No. 9 (CD review)

Kristin Sampson, soprano; Edith Dowd, alto; Cameron Schutza, tenor; Brian Kontes, bass; New Amsterdam Singers; West Point Glee Club; Young New Yorkers' Chorus. David Bernard, Park Avenue Chamber Symphony. Recursive Classics RC2058306.

If you're like me (heaven forbid), you may view Beethoven's Symphony No. 9 as the epitome of big-scale classical music. So it might give you some slight pause to consider the symphony played by a chamber orchestra. You might have even more doubts to learn that the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony comprises mainly players who do other things for a living (hedge-fund managers, philanthropists, CEO's, UN officials, and so on). They're not exactly amateurs, but they're not full-time, paid musicians, either. Fortunately, one listen to their playing should dispel any lingering skepticism. Everyone involved with this current production deserves praise.

Not that the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony is a particularly small ensemble. It's about the size of a full symphony orchestra. However, in the final movement the solo and choral forces (Kristin Sampson, soprano; Edith Dowd, alto; Cameron Schutza, tenor; Brian Kontes, bass; New Amsterdam Singers, the West Point Glee Club, and the Young New Yorkers' Chorus) seem to outnumber the orchestral players two to one. Nevertheless, the New Yorkers play with enthusiasm, and Maestro David Bernard leads them with gusto.

David Bernard
Did I say "gusto"? I mean, Bernard really has them zipping along. Remember back in the early days of CD, we heard that Philips and Sony, the cofounders of the format, decided upon seventy-five minutes as the limit for content (although some CD's now contain a little over eighty minutes) because seventy-five minutes would accommodate the average length for the Beethoven Ninth Symphony? Well, Bernard's performance leaves plenty of room on the disc to spare. I compared his timings for all four movements to Roger Norrington's historically informed performance, which uses Beethoven's own metronome marks (for better or for worse, depending on your attitude toward the reliability of the markings), and Bernard's sixty-five minute mark is almost as fast. So, yes, this is a zippy reading.

The first thing one notices about the performance is that the fairly small size of the ensemble provides a cozier, more intimate style than many of us may be used to. I still miss the big-scale approach, but the inner detail this one provides compensates in part.

Anyway, the first two (orchestral) movements roll along with a zesty fervor, thanks largely to Maestro Bernard's obvious love of the subject matter and his keen desire to communicate that love to his listeners. The orchestra, amateur or not, respond with equal ardor. They may not produce the lush, rich tones of a bigger group, but they make up for it with their eager (and accurate) musicianship. And the third-movement Adagio is as lyrical and sensitive as you'll find.

Which brings us to the concluding choral movement (the familiar "Ode to Joy"), the moment everybody's been waiting for. Here, the orchestra takes a backseat to the various soloists and choruses participating. In fact, the orchestra practically gets overwhelmed. Moreover, Maestro Bernard lessens the speeds a tad, giving the music a little more chance to breathe, yet the overall impression remains one of intense drive. It's an exceptionally energetic and dramatic interpretation, with the soloists and choruses contributing to favorable effect.

Maybe not everyone will take a shine to Bernard's thrill-a-minute rendering of so well-loved and well-travelled a piece of music, but there's no doubt his is an entertaining ride. You may even find yourself coming back to it more often than you imagined.

Engineers Joseph Patrych and Antonio Oliart recorded the symphony at the DiMenna Center, New York City in November 2016. You'll find a fine sense of orchestral depth, a modest hall bloom, and a relatively wide dynamic range involved, which greatly enhance the realism of the production. Voices elicit a clear, vibrant response, if a bit close. Although stage width is somewhat limited, it has little impact on the recording's clarity. There is also some degree of upper midrange brightness and edge, particularly noticeable in the vocals, but it's not enough of a deal killer to be entirely distracting. While the sound may not be absolutely audiophile, it's quite good and complements the orchestra especially well.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:


Bach: Brandenburg Concertos (CD review)

Also, Triple Concerto; Orchestral Suites; others. Helmut Muller-Bruhl, Cologne Chamber Orchestra. Naxos 8.554607, 8.554608, and 8.554609.

I have to admit that I have developed a fondness over the past few decades for baroque music played on period instruments. However, there is always room for performances of Bach's Brandenburg Concertos and Orchestral Overtures (Suites) on modern instruments, too, as they are rendered here on three discs from Naxos. Helmut Muller-Bruhl and the Cologne Chamber Orchestra observe some of the performing practices of the past (the orchestra used to play with period instruments but here use modern ones) with a fluent, contemporary sound. Now, if I could have said the same for the interpretations, these discs might have been sure bets.

Bach's six Brandenburgs are notable not only for the attractiveness of their tunes but for their variety of instrumentation and diversity of style. Muller-Bruhl's tempos for the First Brandenburg Concerto are quick but not breathless. The piece flows nicely, if somewhat blandly, along. Be that as it may, I found the First and Sixth of his Concerto performances the most uninteresting of the lot, no matter how well the Cologne Chamber Orchestra plays.

Then, Muller-Bruhl dashes through Nos. 2 and 3, probably the most popular of the set, about as quickly as I have ever heard. They are almost exhausting, in fact. One could charitably say they are effervescent, and, in fact, they may surely appeal to some listeners. But not to me because they seem to lack elegance or any discernable style. Nos. 4 and 5 come off best of all. After the hectic pace of the previous two works, Muller-Bruhl finally allows his players a few minutes to relax and enjoy themselves, and we're all the better for it.

Helmut Muller-Bruhl
Naxos pretty well fills out the three discs they sent for review, each sold separately: Disc one contains the Brandenburgs Nos. 1, 2, 3 and 6. Disc two contains Brandenburgs Nos. 4 and 5, plus the Triple Concerto in A minor for flute, violin, and harpsichord and the Concerto in F major for two recorders, harpsichord, and strings. Disc three contains the four Orchestral Suites. Of the latter, we have a different story. Where Muller-Bruhl's Brandenburgs appear somewhat controversial, and thus at least partially entertaining in their way, the Suites seem respectful in the extreme, sometimes solemnly so. They are as straightforward and straight-arrow as one could find, which may or may not be what every listener is after. For only a few dollars more, Neville Marriner's mid-priced set of Suites on Decca offers more spirit and vitality.

Sonically, all three Naxos discs sound pretty much alike. The sonics are clear, clean, and well balanced throughout the midrange and treble. It is not ideally well imaged front-to-back, though, and without much bass resonance it appears smooth but lightweight. A little more mid-bass foundation and added warmth might have helped give the music more character.

For me, these discs have only the advantage of a reasonable price, but if it's a cost advantage you're looking for in the Brandenburgs I suggest checking out used copies with conductors and groups like Marriner, Leppard, or I Musici on modern instruments; or Pinnock, Hogwood, Savall, Harnoncourt, Leonhardt, Koopman, Goodman, or the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment on period instruments. Any of them will provide a rewarding musical experience.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:


Sawyers: Symphony No. 3 (CD review)

Also, Songs of Loss and Regret; Fanfare. April Fredrick, Soprano; Kenneth Woods, English Symphony Orchestra; English String Orchestra. Nimbus Alliance NI 6353.

Although English composer Philip Sawyers (b. 1951) has been around for a good many years, he is probably not yet a household name. Indeed, his major fame has no doubt come from the Nimbus recordings of his works conducted by Kenneth Woods, with three records now available with four different orchestras. In 2015 the English Symphony Orchestra, of which Woods is Artistic Director and Principal Conductor, appointed Sawyers their John McCabe Composer in Association, with various commissions including a song cycle, a trumpet concerto, and the Third Symphony that we find on the present disc.

Still, as his Web site informs us, "Sawyers's works have been performed and broadcast in many countries worldwide including the USA, Canada, Spain, Austria, Czech Republic, France and UK. Music-web International described the Nimbus Alliance CD of Sawyers's orchestral work as 'music of instant appeal and enduring quality.' Robert Matthew-Walker writing in Classical Source described the premiere of the Second Symphony by the London Mozart Players as a "deeply impressive work, serious in tone throughout, and genuinely symphonic… one of the finest new symphonies by a British composer I have heard in years…'" High praise for a fellow who, as the Web site continues to note, "began composing as a teenager, shortly after picking up the violin for the first time at the age of 13. However, it has only been in the last few years that his talent has begun to be recognised with major commissions and performances by orchestras in the USA and frequent performances in Europe."

Thus, we come to the Symphony No. 3 and its accompanying pieces on the album under review. Maestro Woods says the programme "reveals Philip Sawyers as a composer at the height of his powers whose music ranges across a relatively wide spectrum of harmonic intensity." Of the Third Symphony, Woods says it "stands very much in the tradition of the great 'darkness to light' symphonies, including Beethoven's 5th, Bruckner's 8th, Brahms' 1st and Shostakovich's 5th." Imposing company, indeed.

Woods goes on to say, "This is turbulent music for a turbulent era, its defiant ending all the more hopeful for being so hard-won. In this respect, I believe this symphony marks a powerful and badly-needed renewal of the symphony as an expression of universal hope and personal will, an archetype which may reach back to Beethoven's iconic Fifth, but the message of which is more relevant than ever."

Kenneth Woods
The Third Symphony exhibits all the hallmarks of modern music, meaning you may not go away humming any memorable tunes, yet it's all quite accessible, even for a Neanderthal like me. The opening movement establishes a dark tone, powerful, with continuing tensions throughout. That is to say, this is the way Woods approaches it, and I assume this was the composer's intention. Without any other recorded interpretations with which to compare it, we have to accept Woods's performance as authoritative, at least for now.

A longing Adagio provides a moment's respite, although even here we notice a good degree of underlying pressure that builds over the course of the movement. But eventually it settles into what Woods calls "a fragile calm." A brief intermezzo follows, which appears at first blush wholly unrelated to anything that went before it, being rather light and fanciful in nature. Then we get a finale that storms onto the scene in rowdy fashion, negotiates its way through a series of themes, both tumultuous and gentle, before ending on what seems like a note of hope, perhaps triumph. It's all a tad disconcerting at first listen, but there's no question its shifting moods do make for a pleasurable experience.

Next on the agenda is the 2015 song-cycle Songs of Loss and Regret, a cycle commissioned to mark the centenary outbreak of World War One, the text of which includes lines from A.E. Housman's "A Shropshire Lad," Alfred Lord Tennyson's "Break, Break, Break," Wilfred Owen's "Futility," Thomas Gray's "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard," the Apocrypha's "Wisdom of Solomon," and William Morris's "The Earthly Paradise." Soprano April Fredrick sings the vocals with Woods and the English String Orchestra, the whole thing enjoyably moving.

The final track is Sawyers's Fanfare (2016), in which the composer tells us he set out to write not another short work "to mark some state or royal occasion" but a "memorable and substantial concert piece." Well, short it is (under four minutes) but substantial it surely is, too, of its kind. Woods is not afraid to let the guns loose, and more power to him.

Producer, engineer, and editor Simon Fox-Gal recorded the Symphony No. 3 and Fanfare at Wyastone Concert Hall, Wyastone Leys, Monmouth, England in February 2017 and the Songs of Loss and Regret at Hereford Cathedral, Hereford, England in October 2017. Nimbus Records have always produced natural-sounding recordings, so it's no surprise this one sounds so realistic. The engineers are more into room ambiance and warm reverberations than ultra-close, clinical accuracy, and more's the better for it. In this case, the big orchestral parts come off with power and authority while still admitting a good deal of detail and clarity. Dynamics and frequency range are strong and wide, stage width is appropriate to the recording's moderately distanced perspective, and stage depth is more than acceptable. Moreover, the solo voice sounds equally lifelike, without a hint of brightness or edge. Very pleasant stuff.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:


Meet the Staff

Meet the Staff
John J. Puccio, Founder and Contributor

Understand, I'm just an everyday guy reacting to something I love. And I've been doing it for a very long time, my appreciation for classical music starting with the musical excerpts on the Big Jon and Sparkie radio show in the early Fifties and the purchase of my first recording, The 101 Strings Play the Classics, around 1956. In the late Sixties I began teaching high school English and Film Studies as well as becoming interested in hi-fi, my audio ambitions graduating me from a pair of AR-3 speakers to the Fulton J's recommended by The Stereophile's J. Gordon Holt. In the early Seventies, I began writing for a number of audio magazines, including Audio Excellence, Audio Forum, The Boston Audio Society Speaker, The American Record Guide, and from 1976 until 2008, The $ensible Sound, for which I served as Classical Music Editor.

Today, I'm retired from teaching and use a pair of bi-amped VMPS RM40s loudspeakers for my listening. In addition to writing for the Classical Candor blog, I served as the Movie Review Editor for the Web site Movie Metropolis (formerly DVDTown) from 1997-2013. Music and movies. Life couldn't be better.

Karl Nehring, Editor and Contributor

For more than 20 years I was the editor of The $ensible Sound magazine and a regular contributor to both its equipment and recordings review pages. I would not presume to present myself as some sort of expert on music, but I have a deep love for and appreciation of many types of music, "classical" especially, and have listened to thousands of recordings over the years, many of which still line the walls of my listening room (and occasionally spill onto the furniture and floor, much to the chagrin of my long-suffering wife). I have always taken the approach as a reviewer that what I am trying to do is simply to point out to readers that I have come across a recording that I have found of interest, a recording that I think they might appreciate my having pointed out to them. I suppose that sounds a bit simple-minded, but I know I appreciate reading reviews by others that do the same for me — point out recordings that they think I might enjoy.

For readers who might be wondering about what kind of system I am using to do my listening, I should probably point out that I do a LOT of music listening and employ a variety of means to do so in a variety of environments, as I would imagine many music lovers also do. Starting at the more grandiose end of the scale, the system in which I do my most serious listening comprises Marantz CD 6007 and Onkyo CD 7030 CD players, NAD C 658 streaming preamp/DAC, Legacy Audio PowerBloc2 amplifier, and a pair of Legacy Audio Focus SE loudspeakers. I occasionally do some listening through pair of Sennheiser 560S headphones. I miss the excellent ELS Studio sound system in our 2016 Acura RDX (now my wife's daily driver) on which I had ripped more than a hundred favorite CDs to the hard drive, so now when driving my 2022 Accord EX-L Hybrid I stream music from my phone through its adequate but not outstanding factory system. For more casual listening at home when I am not in my listening room, I often stream music through the phone into a Vizio soundbar system that has tolerably nice sound for such a diminutive physical presence. And finally, at the least grandiose end of the scale, I have an Ultimate Ears Wonderboom II Bluetooth speaker for those occasions where I am somewhere by myself without a sound system but in desperate need of a musical fix. I just can’t imagine life without music and I am humbly grateful for the technology that enables us to enjoy it in so many wonderful ways.

William (Bill) Heck, Webmaster and Contributor

Among my early childhood memories are those of listening to my mother playing records (some even 78 rpm ones!) of both classical music and jazz tunes. I suppose that her love of music was transmitted genetically, and my interest was sustained by years of playing in rock bands – until I realized that this was no way to make a living. The interest in classical music was rekindled in grad school when the university FM station serving as background music for studying happened to play the Brahms First Symphony. As the work came to an end, it struck me forcibly that this was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard, and from that point on, I never looked back. This revelation was to the detriment of my studies, as I subsequently spent way too much time simply listening, but music has remained a significant part of my life. These days, although I still can tell a trumpet from a bassoon and a quarter note from a treble clef, I have to admit that I remain a nonexpert. But I do love music in general and classical music in particular, and I enjoy sharing both information and opinions about it.

The audiophile bug bit about the same time that I returned to classical music. I’ve gone through plenty of equipment, brands from Audio Research to Yamaha, and the best of it has opened new audio insights. Along the way, I reviewed components, and occasionally recordings, for The $ensible Sound magazine. Most recently I’ve moved to my “ultimate system” consisting of a BlueSound Node streamer, an ancient Toshiba multi-format disk player serving as a CD transport, Legacy Wavelet II DAC/preamp/crossover, dual Legacy PowerBloc2 amps, and Legacy Signature SE speakers (biamped), all connected with decently made, no-frills cables. With the arrival of CD and higher resolution streaming, that is now the source for most of my listening.

Ryan Ross, Contributor

I started listening to and studying classical music in earnest nearly three decades ago. This interest grew naturally out of my training as a pianist. I am now a musicologist by profession, specializing in British and other symphonic music of the 19th and 20th centuries. My scholarly work has been published in major music journals, as well as in other outlets. Current research focuses include twentieth-century symphonic historiography, and the music of Jean Sibelius, Ralph Vaughan Williams, and Malcolm Arnold.

I am honored to contribute writings to Classical Candor. In an age where the classical recording industry is being subjected to such profound pressures and changes, it is more important than ever for those of us steeped in this cultural tradition to continue to foster its love and exposure. I hope that my readers can find value, no matter how modest, in what I offer here.


Bryan Geyer, Technical Analyst

I initially embraced classical music in 1954 when I mistuned my car radio and heard the Heifetz recording of Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto. That inspired me to board the new "hi-fi" DIY bandwagon. In 1957 I joined one of the pioneer semiconductor makers and spent the next 32 years marketing transistors and microcircuits to military contractors. Home audio DIY projects remained a personal passion until 1989 when we created our own new photography equipment company. I later (2012) revived my interest in two channel audio when we "downsized" our life and determined that mini-monitors + paired subwoofers were a great way to mate fine music with the space constraints of condo living.

Visitors that view my technical papers on this site may wonder why they appear here, rather than on a site that features audio equipment reviews. My reason is that I tried the latter, and prefer to publish for people who actually want to listen to music; not to equipment. My focus is in describing what's technically beneficial to assure that the sound of the system will accurately replicate the source input signal (i. e. exhibit high accuracy) without inordinate cost and complexity. Conversely, most of the audiophiles of today strive to achieve sound that's euphonic, i.e. be personally satisfying. In essence, audiophiles seek sound that's consistent with their desire; the music is simply a test signal.

Mission Statement

It is the goal of Classical Candor to promote the enjoyment of classical music. Other forms of music come and go--minuets, waltzes, ragtime, blues, jazz, bebop, country-western, rock-'n'-roll, heavy metal, rap, and the rest--but classical music has been around for hundreds of years and will continue to be around for hundreds more. It's no accident that every major city in the world has one or more symphony orchestras.

When I was young, I heard it said that only intellectuals could appreciate classical music, that it required dedicated concentration to appreciate. Nonsense. I'm no intellectual, and I've always loved classical music. Anyone who's ever seen and enjoyed Disney's Fantasia or a Looney Tunes cartoon playing Rossini's William Tell Overture or Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 can attest to the power and joy of classical music, and that's just about everybody.

So, if Classical Candor can expand one's awareness of classical music and bring more joy to one's life, more power to it. It's done its job. --John J. Puccio

Contact Information

Readers with polite, courteous, helpful letters may send them to classicalcandor@gmail.com

Readers with impolite, discourteous, bitchy, whining, complaining, nasty, mean-spirited, unhelpful letters may send them to classicalcandor@recycle.bin.

"Their Master's Voice" by Michael Sowa

"Their Master's Voice" by Michael Sowa